Musings of an Insomniac Ice Cream Eater
by Sarah Rettger
Summary: Mac has a conversation with a voice in her head


Disclaimer: JAG belongs to CBS, Paramount, and Don Bellisario. No infringement is intended, and no profit is made.  
  
A/N: This is not one of my best works - I freely admit it. I was under the influence of far too much caffeine at the time. But a lot of people have told me they like this one, so I posted it.  
  
  
  
  
Chocolate blast or mint chocolate chip? Mac was glad there were people in line ahead of her, giving her time to decide. Why was she having so much trouble choosing what kind of ice cream to have? And if she wanted to keep asking herself these inane questions, with no obvious answer, what were five-no, six, including her- people doing in a Baskin Robbins in Alexandria at 0246 on a Saturday morning?   
  
She was tired. That was obvious from the random train of thoughts running through her mind. She needed sleep- ten hours would be nice- but sleep wasn't coming. And she had gotten a sudden craving for chocolate. So she had found an all-night ice cream place. And so, apparently, had a lot of other people.   
  
Normal people did not crave ice cream in the middle of the night. The man in the front of the line got his change and stepped to the side. In a minute he was joined by a woman. Both of them were sipping chocolate blasts. As the man slipped his arm around the woman and they walked out, Mac was drawn back to her original question: blast or mint chocolate chip?   
  
As the line moved forward, she decided on a blast. It would eliminate the question of whether to get a cup or a cone. God, she needed a life.   
  
"Hi, what'll it be?" asked the cashier, a teenager with a smile that couldn't be genuine at this insane hour, whose name tag identified her as Hi I'm Jenni!   
  
"A chocolate blast." Mac hated hyper blond cashiers who seemed bent on making the world as cheerful as they were.   
  
"I'm sorry, the blast machine just broke," said Hi I'm Jenni!, her smile never faltering.   
  
"Fine. Mint chocolate chip."   
  
"Cone or cup?" Not this again. Don't think. Just choose. Get away from this crazy woman. "Cone."   
  
"What kind?" Hi I'm Jenni! gestured to the display case, which housed perfect examples of Baskin Robbins' three varieties of cones: waffle, sugar, and wafer.   
  
Wafer cones always reminded Mac of manila folders, and she spent enough time with those at work. So did she want waffle or sugar? The waffle cone was three times the size of the sugar cone. She could run a few extra mile in the morning. "Waffle." But it was the morning, and she wasn't planning on running any time soon. Oh, well. She could be bad once in a while.   
  
"What do you want on it?" Hi I'm Jenni! showed cones topped with rainbow and chocolate sprinkles. "We also have plain."  
  
The smile was really bothering Mac. "Rainbow." She had always had a strange fascination with rainbow sprinkles. Mac looked at the cone display as Hi I'm Jenni! filled her cone. Were they real? She didn't know how long ice cream cones could last under glass. But they didn't * look* plastic. Oh my god, what am I doing? she asked herself. Sample ice cream cones should * not* take up this much of my time.   
  
"That'll be one eighty-nine," said Hi I'm Jenni! Mac handed her a five dollar bill. "Here's your change. Have a nice day." Hi I'm Jenni! smiled even more.   
  
Mac took her rainbow-sprinkle covered waffle cone full of mint chocolate chip ice cream outside. It was a warm evening- actually it was hot; maybe that was why she was having trouble sleeping. But her apartment was air conditioned.   
  
Mac had been wandering, and she looked around. She was standing in front of a black Trooper. Why her? In one of her rare lucid thoughts that night, Mac admitted to herself that there really was a good reason for her insomnia. That reason was the owner of a similar looking- Trooper. She was usually so good at-   
  
*So good at what? Covering up your feelings? Compulsive denial of the obvious?* a little voice asked.   
  
*Hey, if it works...* Mac replied. And then- oh my god, I'm not only hearing voices in my head, I'm answering them too. What's wrong with me?   
  
*Cheaters never prosper,* said the little voice in a singsong tone. * You can't cheat at love.*   
  
*I'm not trying to cheat, I'm trying to ignore something that can never happen,* Mac thought, steadfastly ignoring the Freudian stuff.   
  
*Why can't it happen? That's a stupid idea. True love always finds a way.*   
  
*You're a voice in my head. What do you know about love? *   
  
*From living in your head? Not much. But, see, I was born knowing this stuff. Now tell me why you think it can't happen. *   
  
*There are rules about this kind of stuff. We could both get discharged.. And I think you're reading way too much into this. Or I am. Or both of us. * Great. I'm trying to reason with a voice. * He probably doesn't care.* Not that I need to explain this to you - you're a voice.   
  
*Of course he cares. Would that thing have happened today- well, yesterday now- if he didn't care? *   
  
Unbidden, Mac's mind slipped back to the latest episode of UST between her and the admiral. It was no different from the last one- that whole alone together in the coffee room thing just wasn't working, she had to admit that- but it had been so long since the last time. Weeks. Weeks that had been spent working, doing normal things. Yeah- boring as hell.   
  
*Boring? * asked the voice. * Coster's trial, helping Harm quit smoking- all that was boring?*   
  
*Not boring. But it was easy, predictable. There was no challenge, no danger. * Mac felt something cold on her hand. She looked and saw that the ice cream was dripping down the side of the cone. She should have gotten a cup.   
  
*So you're just in this because you're an adrenaline junkie? You're shameless. *   
  
*I'm not in anything. You're making this whole thing up. * I'm telling a voice that it's making it all up? That's useful. I really should go home and sleep.   
  
*Yeah, you are. If this was all one-sided, you might be right, but it's not. You want this as much as he does. You have fun with it. Admit it. *   
  
*Okay, fine. What's your point? *   
  
*You can't keep this up forever. Eventually you're going to have to do something about it. *   
  
*This is great. I'm getting love advice from a voice. A voice in my head. * Mac yawned, tripped, and half-fell against her car.   
  
*Hey, you can take it or leave it. The Voice of Reason can only do so much. But your love life can wait. Get in that car and drive home before you fall asleep. *   
  
That seemed to be the only sensible thing the voice had said all night. Which showed how much Mac really did need to go home and sleep. She looked at the black Trooper once more as she pulled out of the parking lot. There was a bed waiting for her, and at the moment * that* was the most important thing in her life right now. As the voice said, the rest could wait.  
  



End file.
